


Inviting Catastrophe

by esteefee



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode: s03e10 The Return Part 1, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3359075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Their first week back on Earth, Rodney could hardly bear the sound of the generator at Area 51, the constant hum that wasn't Atlantis, that wasn't the ocean or her power conduits singing the sweet music of systems in harmony.</i> </p><p>Set during The Return Part 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inviting Catastrophe

**Author's Note:**

> Beta and research by the ever-awesome Mischief5.
> 
> Apparently this is my 200th story in the fandom. Woo!

Their first week back on Earth, Rodney could hardly bear the sound of the generator at Area 51, the constant hum that wasn't Atlantis, that wasn't the ocean or Atlantis' power conduits singing the sweet music of systems in harmony.

He started calling Sheppard almost constantly in a vain attempt to convince himself this wasn't real; and if Rodney blamed him somewhat for just giving up, for handing her over without a whimper after almost dying for her so many times, well, he tried not to let it weigh in his voice more than it should. Sheppard was having his own problems.

"I'm tired, Rodney," John said at the end of one of their calls, weeks in, and his voice sounded so small, as if the weight of an entire mountain were crushing him, small like John Sheppard never was on Atlantis, where it seemed like the whole city breathed around him, enveloping him in her light. If there were times when that made Rodney insanely jealous and want to brain Sheppard with the nearest handy artifact, there was also a part of him that fell right into the city's party line, and he wanted right in this moment to reach through the phone line and strangle whatever was making John feel this way.

"I hate my shirt," Rodney blurted. "All of them, actually. They're not my uniform. I keep catching my reflection out of the corner of my eye and wondering 'Who is this chump?'" 

"Yeah." John let out something that was decidedly not a laugh. "I'm in green ABUs."

"God. I hate that color."

This time, Sheppard did laugh a little, and Rodney felt his throat ache, just ache. 

"I'm coming out on Friday. I have a thing. I have to meet with...Dr. Lee," Rodney said, lying badly.

"Yeah? That's great. That's really...good."

"So, expect me. I'll be there," Rodney swore, and then cursed himself for sounding far too earnest, a golden retriever on Adderall. "Buy me some decent coffee," he said, recovering. "None of that Starbucks malarkey." 

"You got it, buddy," John said. "See you soon."

:::

It turned out Lee did want Rodney to come out, desperately, so the SGC paid full fare and for a snazzy rental that went a long way to soothe the idea of working side by side with a man who believed World of Warcraft was a valid dating service.

Still, Rodney had to check in, get his I.D. remagnetized for the proper security levels—a process not unlike the Trials of Hercules but minus the actual, physical manure—and to spend at least a few hours being held hostage by Lee's tales of his offspring and their adventures at _Star Trek: The Experience_ in Las Vegas. 

So, Rodney was in a piss poor mood indeed when he finally blundered his way to Sheppard's closet of an office on SL-33, the very bottom level of the SGC.

"Well," Rodney said in greeting, "this is cozy. What, they couldn't find a damp pit to throw you in?"

"This _is_ the pit they threw me in. They've got me working down the hall from Felger." John stood, a grin creeping up one side of his mouth. "Good to see you, McKay." His voice cracked a little on Rodney's name, and Rodney ducked his face to the side, suddenly embarrassed beyond words. 

"And you," Rodney said hastily, dropping his bag by the door, then laying his laptop on John's desk beside what appeared to be a pound of gourmet coffee. "Although, frankly, you look terrible. Haven't you left this place at all since we got back?"

John shrugged. "Occasionally. Mostly I've been in debriefings. I did go on one trial mission with my new team." His eyebrows twisted in a way Rodney had always found terrifyingly attractive.

"They sounded like real winners, the way you described them."

"Aw. Bambus isn't so bad." John paused. "For a botanist."

Rodney made a horrified sound. John's cheeks lifted in a smile, and Rodney felt his heart click back into place, like a crystal snapping into its slot. He couldn't help smirking back helplessly, even though he knew he looked utterly ridiculous and was inviting catastrophe.

Well, that was all right. Their lives were one precarious sea change after another, sometimes literally. At the very least, he'd be relieved of the unceasing boredom that had weighed on him like a stone these past weeks. Not even a horde of sycophantic assistants catering to his every whim held any appeal after, oh, the first couple of days. Twinkies or no.

"Can we get out of here?" John said. "Seriously, the dart board was great, thanks, but Landry made me take down the picture of Woolsey, and I'm going a little stir-crazy in here. I've got nothing doing the rest of the day."

"Yes! Yes, of course. I'll leave my things here, if that's all right."

"Sure. We'll lock up tight. That's one thing they've got plenty of around here," John said heavily.

Rodney could see he wasn't kidding. John's office had deadbolt, a keypad, and a keycard lock. It wasn't biometrics, but then, this wasn't Atlantis. And Rodney really had to stop thinking about Atlantis. Atlantis was lost to them.

God. He wanted to take one of Sheppard's darts and stick it in his chest. It might ease the ache. 

John caught him staring at the locks and gave him a knowing look.

"Pretty primitive, but it gets the job done. Let's go."

Rising up level after level in the elevator only emphasized the pervasive sense of weight of the Mountain above them, but it eased with each floor they rose, and when they switched elevators on SL-11, Rodney felt like his lungs expanded a notch. He glanced over at Sheppard and noticed he had relaxed somewhat as well, his spine loosening into an all-too-familiar slouch as he leaned against the wall and cocked his head at Rodney.

"You have wheels?"

"Yes. Uh, the SGC provided me with a rental."

"Then I know just the place," John said, and Rodney didn't know quite what to make of his expression, but was stymied by their arrival at the top floor. He followed John out, brushing by the administrative personnel obviously trying to get a jump-start on the weekend, and lined up behind the crowd at the base checkpoint's hand-scanner. 

Rodney heard John make a side-comment to one of the marines stationed there, and the woman saluted before waving Rodney up to be scanned.

"Throwing your weight around?" Rodney said under his breath as they walked toward the exit.

"Rank has privileges," John said, but he sounded less than delighted; in fact, he sounded exhausted and tense. Rodney got that—it had been a long day already, and a longer month, and he wanted to go home. He just wasn't sure where that was anymore.

"You okay?" John said, and then a moment later, "Wow. Okay—this was a good idea." 

Rodney looked up and instantly agreed, because the sky had gone colors that had to be seen to be believed; it was too picturesque. A bowl of deep blue arched above them, with sparse streamers of clouds that caught the low setting sun and lit up cotton-candy pink. 

"Oh, that is extraordinary, isn't it?" 

They stood there for a long moment just staring up, and Rodney felt it keenly—how very much he had missed this, just this, standing beside John and taking in a sight. Such a simple thing to miss, yet so complicated. Fraught. 

John bumped a shoulder against his and left it there, leaning against him for a long moment before pulling away.

"I guess we should get a move on, huh?" John said, his voice heavy once again.

"Yes. I—yes."

"C'mon. It'll be fun."

"But I'm driving," Rodney warned.

"Terrific."

:::

"Gonna die. Gonna die," John chanted, and Rodney told him to shut up, yet again.

"I'll have you know I commuted for over ten years without a single accident," Rodney said loftily.

"Probably because the other cars drove away screaming," John muttered. "Okay, here—pull into the left-turn lane. We're getting off the highway, thank God."

Rodney did as he said. "I don't know why I put up with you; you haven't even told me where we're going."

"You'll like it. I promise."

Rodney read the sign as he pulled them into the parking lot. "A dinosaur museum? Seriously?"

"Yup." 

"Oh my God." Rodney's inner five-year-old was not making gleeful noises. That was just the sound of the substandard brakes on this rental piece of crap. "Well, I suppose if we have to waste a couple of hours..."

"That's the spirit, Rodney," John said. "Stuffed triceratops is on me."

"Oh my God," Rodney said again, and followed Sheppard out of the car.

:::

"'Physics is Phun'? Really?" Rodney said as John dragged him to the next exhibit. The T-Rex had, of course, been a combination of dopey and terrifying, and the Triceratops skull was beautiful—the Triceratops had always been Rodney's favorite, although he wasn't sure how John had known that. He'd never told him. The Compsognathus remained absolutely creepy. Small carnivores were creepy; there were no two ways about it. 

But now they were down to picking one of the last shows to watch before the museum closed, and John had fixed on the physics show for kids, as if it would somehow be edifying to an astrophysicist of Rodney's stature.

"It'll be phun," John said, and Rodney could _hear_ the extra 'h' in there.

"Fine. Fine," he said, "but I reserve the right to heckle."

John rolled his eyes and plucked him by his jacket collar to tug him inside.

Surprisingly, the woman presenting the lecture turned out to be a Captain in the USAF, a petite, dark-haired, impish woman who captivated the children with the usual, hackneyed tricks: heating a metal container and then sealing it and subjecting it to rapid cooling to make it crumple under the force of negative pressure; the "wonders" of magnetism levitating a magnet over a superconductor cooled by liquid nitrogen. Tame stuff, but the children were wowed, and so, apparently, was John, who chuckled whenever the children oohed and awed.

Rodney found himself growing irritated, his earlier good mood evaporating like liquid nitrogen.

"Had enough?" he whispered.

"Shh. She's going to do something with static electricity."

Rodney sighed hugely and refused to be entertained when Captain Jane touched the static electricity ball and her hair suddenly blossomed like a dandelion puff.

John, of course, insisted on staying afterward and thanking her. Rodney stood off to the side and tried very hard not to vibrate with his seething hatred of everything.

"That was awesome. Thanks," John said. "I bet those kids will all run home and demand science kits for their birthdays."

"Oh, I hope so!" Captain Jane said, disgustingly chipper and chipmunk-like. Her two front teeth were alarmingly oversized, come to think of it.

"Dr. McKay, here—" John waved to his side, then looked surprised not to find him there, as if he'd expected Rodney to stand there like his personal, one-man harem. "Uh, that's Rodney over there—he's an astrophysicist. He gets to talking about stuff, and I don't have a clue. This was about my level." John shrugged disarmingly. 

Captain Jane laughed. "Well, usually at this point, I offer to let my fans touch the static ball, but I can see you don't need to."

And that was quite enough. Rodney stepped forward and offered his hand. "Well, thanks again, but we don't want to keep you. It sounds like the museum's closing."

"Right! Right," Captain Jane said. "I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

"Oh, it was a hoot," Rodney said, and John said, "Yeah, thanks," and turned, incidentally stepping on Rodney's foot. 

Rodney gritted his teeth and trailed John out the exhibit room and then out of the museum proper. 

"You know, that was kind of rude," John said as they approached the car. "She was cool. Those were future Rodneys in there, you realize that?"

"I don't care if she was Mary II carrying the Second Coming!" Rodney sighed. "Don't you ever get tired of it?"

John gave him a look over the roof of the car. "Tired of what?"

"I'm not—oh, I'm only too aware I'm not in any position to..." Rodney bit the corner of his lip. "You have a type, you know that? Petite, willowy brunettes."

John shook his head and said, "I like smart people, Rodney. Willowy—what does that mean? Anyway, I wasn't really flirting with her."

"What? You were, too!"

"Was not. Unlock the car."

Rodney glared and unlocked the car. As they got in, he rewound a little and fixated on, 'smart people,' so he barely heard it when John turned and said, "She was cool. I mean, those kids were getting into physics because of her. I never had a teacher like that. But you must have, right?"

"You said 'smart people.'" 

John eyed him narrowly. "Okay, she was hot. That doesn't mean I was flirting—"

"No. I mean, why did you say 'people' not 'women'?"

John bit his lower lip and looked away. "There would be a reason for that."

"Would it..." Rodney choked in a breath. "Would it be because people covers everyone?"

"That would be the reason, yeah," John said slowly. 

Rodney looked down and saw John's hands gripping his thighs. Reaching down, Rodney patted John's left hand with his right.

"I like smart people too."

John's hand twitched.

Rodney continued, "Which is why it always annoys me beyond reason when you pretend all your brilliant plans arrive out of the ether like Hamlet's ghost."

John turned his head, a smile cracking his face oddly. "Shakespeare? You?"

"Yes, well." Rodney cleared his throat and tried to take his hand back, but John grabbed it and held on.

"Rodney." John swiped his tongue over his lower lip, and oh. Oh, how unfair. Catastrophe—Rodney had predicted this, hadn't he? But he supposed he could use a little catastrophe in his life. Catastrophe of the positive kind, the kind that would result in the explosion of his core and a supernova that would shine with the light of ten thousand suns. 

Or, of course, it could all end in bitter recriminations and manly tears.

Either way, Rodney didn't have much choice, he could see, plain as day, because John's face had set in a look he could easily identify as "Operation: Fuck It All to Hell," and he was leaning in closer, the cheap rental seat creaking beneath him. 

"Wasn't flirting," John said, his eyes dark. "I was already there with you."

"Oh," Rodney said, getting it finally, thinking, _dumbass_ , and, _mmm, lips, soft, oh, tongue, yes._ Then Rodney wasn't thinking, which was odd, because he liked to think. Thinking was his friend, except when John's fingers were playing with the hair at the back of Rodney's neck and John's tongue was in his mouth and John's other hand was in Rodney's lap and —

"Oh, God. Uh. Kids. Kids in the parking lot," Rodney said frantically, because there were—there were kids' voices still piping up in the distance, and that was a definite hard-on killer.

John pulled back, a disappointed frown crushing his eyebrows, but he smirked a little and rubbed his fingers over his lips. 

"So, get us to your hotel," he suggested.

"Right. Hotel," Rodney said. 

"Or, maybe I should drive?"

"That might not be a bad idea," Rodney said. "Not that I'm not an excellent driver..."

"Shut up and shove over."

:::

"I thought for sure we were going to die," Rodney said as he struggled out of his shirt.

"Best pilot in two galaxies," John retorted. "Help me with this." 

And then they were wrestling on the bed, Rodney moaning a little as John finally freed Rodney's cock from his pants and shoved his clothes out of the way. "Careful!" he said an instant later when John was a little too free with his knees getting his own pants off.

"Just...one...second," John said, and, "finally. God." He promptly tackled Rodney to the mattress and then stared down at him. "Hi," John said. His hair had reached epic levels of ridiculousness, but that probably had more to do with him racing down US-24 at breakneck speeds with the window open and less to do with his current state of arousal. 

Rodney ground up with his hips. Then again... 

"You could have killed us both, and then would we be able to do this?" Rodney said, wrapping one heel around the back of John's thigh and bucking so his balls and cock were shifting against John's. It was purely sublime. 

"I would never let that happen," John said breathlessly, and he rocked forward and back, assisting in the terrific, truly wonderful pressure, up and back, up and back. John's forearms lay on either side of Rodney's head—he felt caged in, but in the best way, secured, locked in, while John's chest hair tickled his nipples and his cock rolled against Rodney's cock.

"Fantastic. Good to hear," Rodney replied mindlessly, and John gasped a laugh and bent down to kiss him, his tongue plunging into Rodney's mouth. It was lascivious and lewd and other L words that meant lust-lust-lust, and Rodney hitched up his other leg to lock his ankles together and get closer. God, yes. Closer.

John reached beneath him to grab his ass—Rodney should have been expecting the move but he wasn't quite firing on all cylinders, and anyway, he wouldn't have objected, per se, because John's hand squeezing and groping and then his fingers slipping—oh, there. 

"Yes. Right there," Rodney said at the dry brush of fingers stroking him. "Fuck," Rodney said, adding a few extra "F"s for emphasis, and then he started to come.

"Yeah, Rodney, yeah," John said, the salt-rough of his jawbone scratching Rodney's cheek. Rodney whimpered a little in agreement and then sagged, letting John do whatever he wanted.

Apparently, that involved kissing Rodney some more—his mouth, his cheek where it burned, his temple, then John tilted over onto one elbow and started jerking himself off, his eyes traveling over Rodney's body. 

"I can help you with that..?" 

"Nah, I'm good," John said, his hand working over his come-slicked cock as his gaze flickered down to Rodney's softening dick.

It made Rodney imagine, impossibly, that he was acting as some sort of visual stimulation.

"Really? I'm...just this is doing it for you?" Rodney drew his hand down John's chest and rubbed a thumb over John's nipple, fascinated when it stiffened to a tight little peak.

"Fuck, yeah. Jeez, Rodney," John said, and data seemed to prove it out, the way John's eyes flicked between Rodney's face and damp groin, and then John groaned and came, jizz spurting between his fingers and pattering over his heaving stomach.

So, that seemed definitive. And Rodney certainly was glad, because the sight of John staring at him lazy-lidded, hair sideways, and torso covered in come, seemed to really do it for Rodney, as well. 

"I told you," John said, apparently reading his mind, "I like smart people." 

"Good thing I'm a genius, then."

"Good thing." John nodded seriously. "So, you should put that brain of yours to work, because I hate to kill the buzz here, but you're heading back to Nevada on Sunday night, right?" He looked down. "We'd be back to talking on the phone three times a day."

Oh. That did kill Rodney's mood most effectively. 

Still, maybe it was the post-sex endorphins, or maybe the habitual, irrational optimism he felt in John Sheppard's presence, but Rodney felt somehow he could work the SGC's need for his genius into an arrangement that would benefit their strange new relationship.

"Don't worry your pretty little head," Rodney said. "I'll get this one."

John's eyes had narrowed at 'pretty,' but now he smiled almost sweetly. "I know you will, buddy."

It made Rodney's chest ache in a whole new way, not unpleasant at all. _Ten thousand suns,_ he thought, and pulled John into another kiss.

They'd be the best kind of catastrophe.

 

 

................................  
February 14, 2014  
San Francisco, CA

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/esteefee/14783436/149357/149357_original.jpg)

**Author's Note:**

> [The Dinosaur Resource Center](http://www.rmdrc.com/) \- in Woodland Park, CO, is just a hop away from NORAD. :D


End file.
